"Perhaps we are each allotted only a certain amount of love- enough for only an initial meeting- a serendipitous clumsiness."

Monday, January 13, 2014

The Problem Is

The problem is, always was, that I loved you too much.

They told me. Everyone told me. To not do that. To never
love you like that. But see, I didn’t see it. All I could see was you. You were
a high. Something I could sniff when my day went south. Something I could
inject to make my day go north. Something I could wake up to, with a feeling of
elation. The feeling that I had done something right.

And the problem is, always was, that you played the part. To
the T. You danced and pranced for me. You made me laugh. You made me cry, just
enough to consider you an achievement. You made me feel like I was the only
thing you lived for. You made me feel like a million bucks was tepid in front
of me.

They told us. Everyone told us. To not to that. We may never
stop loving each other, but what if we lost each other? What if something
happened to either one of us? How would either of us get through it.

Well, you showed me how, didn’t you. You disappeared. You
left me with a faith that I couldn't practice anymore.

The problem is, always was, that which they didn’t tell me. They told me not to love
you like that, but what they should have been telling me is this – love yourself
more. So that at least this way, when you’re gone I will still have had something left to love.